“We’ll do it,” Callum said.
“Of course we will,” I said. “Why would we not stalk the scary magician who might be trying to raise his son from the dead? For free?”

When a sorcerer tells you to track a magician, you do it — or risk spending life as a hamster.

But the scary magician? Not our biggest problem.

Between raging squirrel mobs, sewer monsters, and bungalow-dwelling necromancers with attack dogs, staying alive is a full-time job.

Then we stumble onto something worse. Something that makes one dead son look like small carrots. Something that could wake an ancient almost-god and bring the world to its knees.

Unless G&C London — Yorkshire’s only magical PIs — can stop it.

We really should’ve charged for this one.